Discover the poetic beauty in ‘The Killing Season’ by A Tribe Called Quest. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of A Tribe Called Quest or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
Winter in America, never knew white Christmas
‘Cause L7 squares always making my shit list
Spring is in the air and all the flowers are blooming
The powers that be wanna devour the movement
Tears disappear when they fall on the summer rain
Bleedin’ through this mic, but they call it entertainment
Running across stages is a drug
It’s like a blunt, we crumple the raw papers
Call it the Lord’s name cause we taking it in our veins
Like the feeding us intravenous
It’s war and we fighting for inches and millimetres
Try to stall the progress by killing off all the leaders
If we don’t give them martyrs no more, they can’t defeat us
This lack of justice got us disgusted, look at our faces
All these soldiers hate but I saw military training
The force flags fly at a half mast this morning
Take a bow, this might be your last performance
They sold ya, sold ya, sold ya
The old lady saw us on the lawn with the Henny
Turn the pool party into the one from McKinney
Might’ve been racist like the waitresses up at Denny’s
Swore we had twelve gauges, automatics, and semis
Now they wanna condemn me for my freedom of speech
‘Cause I see things in black and white like Lisa and Screech
Predators get impeached and others fill in the throne
But veterans don’t get the benefit of feelin’ at home
So maybe those projections out at Silicon
Over dro they getting injections made of silicone
I swear it’s the killing season
‘Cause killin’ is still in season yea
Louder than a three pound, voices screaming mad a boot
It must be killing season, on the menu strange fruit
Whose juices fill the progress of this here very nation
Whose states has grown bitter, through justice expiration
These fruitful trees are rooted in bloody soil and torment
Things haven’t really changed, or they’re dormant for the moment
Marks and scars, we own it, only makes for tougher skin
Helps us actualize the actual greatness held within
Been on the wrong team so much, can’t recognise a win
Seems like my only crime is having melanin
Connection to the sun so strong the relationship is lusted for
Causes meant to suffocate, I can’t breathe no more
Settle the score sadly, need an abacus to tally
Through all the peaks and valleys, yo, I recognize it sadly
Black soul bold enough, inner city cold enough
Watch me get all my goons, watch us get soldiered up
They sold ya, sold ya, sold ya